The War of the Immortals
by Starlight Gundam
Summary: A war breaks out between angels and demons and humans are caught in the middle. Except for those humans who's destiny holds much more in store for them. QxR, DxR HxR Suggestions for better title are welcome.


_Chapter 1_

_"Pit, Pit, Pit, Patter." The rain thudded noisily against the roof but I paid it no mind. It was a constant noise, one i had heard for the last week or so. In fact, aside from the crackling of the radio it was the only sound I'd heard._

Since the war began people barely left their homes, if not their basements. I absentmindedly scratched my shoulder and moved to tune the radio. My efforts just gave crackle after crackle and I resigned myself to the fact that maybe none of the radio stations had survived. For all I knew, I may be the only thing that had survived. I hadn't seen another person for near to a week. No one since he left...

I shut the radio off and went to search for a candle. It was beginning to turn dark and I didn't want to be left without a little light. The itch returned to my shoulder and I ruefully scratched it against the corner of the door. It was quite a persistent itch, amazing what could still be considered an annoyance in times like these.

Thunder boomed outside and the rain increased its pattering on the roof. I dug through the kitchen drawers and found a few light colored taper candles. Returning to the table I became temporarily blinded by a bright flash of lightning. Then I screamed.

Pain, pain unlike anything I had ever experienced wracked my body. I dimly noted the candles rolling across the floor. Rolling inches from my face as I realized that I was on the floor. I didn't even remember falling and I didn't have enough time to care that I did as the pain continued.

Abrubtly everything burst, literally. A strange wrenching sound came from my back as I felt it split in two places and an unknown mass come rushing out. It felt like an extension of my body and it shuddered, shaking my small frame and making me fall from my knees onto my stomach. I was drenched in flecks of black and disbelievingly identified it as blood. It wasn't the black of blood that is dried out however. This blood was glistening an not at all dry. The last image I had before darkness took me was the sweep of black feathers that landed beside my cheek.

_2023, the day the heavens opened and the earth was ripped in half. Angels cascaded from the sky, sun glaring on the perfect white of their wings, while their darker counterparts darted from the rent in the earth. They were beautiful. Perfect bodies, perfect faces, and the ethereal wings that made their body size appear diminished._

_Their reason for being there was not so beautiful however. They were there for war. They met in the sky with a resounding crash, weapons glinting with sparks._

_In moments the sky rained blood, crimson and black flowing freely like sickly colored rain. Strangely, the beings themselves were not marred by this waterfall of blood. They fought on just as pristine as when they began._

_It was a wonder that they did not all fall at the first violent contact. Their bodies were delicate, fragile almost, and their wings fine-boned and easily damaged. An angel or demon that fell though would quickly come back to conscious and those mutilated regenerated. It seemed like a never ending war. _

_We humans were caught in the middle of it. They soared by us, unmindful of the destruction they left in their path. They were at war. Casualties didn't make a difference. Humans were too lowly of creatures to be thought about during battle anyway. I thought it was the end of the world._

_Most humans ran inside for cover, seeking shelter in their basements where they hoped the battle would not penetrate. Others, the more foolish ones, ran about outside seeking prizes. A feather from an angel or a scrap of demon's cloak. These were also the ones that would try to sneak up on a wounded or unconscious immortal and steal their blood. Most never lived to sell or enjoy the wonderful bounty that they collected. They were quickly killed inadvertantly or even on purpose by an enraged angel or demon._

_The governments of the world tried to stop it at first. After all, a war in the middle of the sky wasn't normal or inviting. Their weapons had no effect though and they switched to trying to save supplies and peoples. Even these attempts would stop later as the officials went to underground bases with their families and shut of the rest of the world. _

_The initial madness of the fight would die down later, and that is when it became dangerous. It was seen by both sides that they could add to both their numbers if a human was killed. That's when the Recruiters came into existence. While any angel or demon could kill a human to add to their ranks, it was hard to distinguish while fighting if they truly wanted that person to be among them. They couldn't tell personalities or souls with just a glance. However, when the Recruiters were formed, the weren't in the war for the battle. They were there to hunt. No one was safe from them. _

_It was hard to spot a Recruiter. They appeared to look the same as most of the other angels and demons. No special color of dress, no insignia. The only chance one had of spotting them was to see the animal companion that was with some. Though not all had one. _

_Not just angels and demons came to earth. Unfathomable creatures had came to join the fight also and they were drawn to these silent ethereal fighters. They were almost more unbelievable than the immortals._

_There was one difference between these Recruiters and the regular warriors, however. The Recruiters weren't full blooded angels or demons. They were what was known as planet touched. Humans that had some celestial or demonic blood in them but had remained dormant through the centuries and generations until awakened by the war. They were mortals. I would come to find this out later._

_It would hit with no warning. One moment someone would be strolling the street. the next instant they were brought to their knees uttering gut wrenching screams as a pair of wings ripped through the skin of their backs. _

_Five days into the war I saw the change myself. I was taking shelter in my friend's house when he fell the ground and started rolling. He screamed and yelped and all I could do was watch in horror. He looked up at me, his eyes desperate. They seemed to ask me what was happening, and I had no answers. His shirt ripped from his back and one by one, feathers, all of an iridescent white seemed to pour from his back like wax dripping from a candle. Crimson blood ran with them and turned the white to a bright burgandy. The wings were plastered to his back and then they wrenched outward, to full wingspan and shook. The blood fell to the floor and littered it with hundreds of red flecks. They they shuddered once more and drew back to his shoulders. They were beautiful, at full lenth, when they had shook they had been as big as his body. Big enough to wrap around himself if he want4ed to. He stopped screaming and stayed there on his hands and knees, painting and gasping. His bangs hid his face._

_"Quatre," I asked him uncertainly, tentatively reaching out to touch the wings in awe. But as my fingertips brushed them he screeched as if I had burnt him._

_"Don't touch me," he had said, malevolently glaring at me. His eyes had turned from a soft glue to a piercing violet and they scared me. I had never seen him so livid before, and so full of hate. He stared at me for a couple of minutes, a small sneer settling in the corner of his face._

_He slowly got to his feet and left. He never looked back._

Which brought me to the present and awake; I was now one. I looked to the groound and saw the splattered drops of black blood. It didn't bother me as much as it had before and I crawled to my feet. I adjusted my wings, gently stretching them this way and that to get the feel of them. They were soft and satiny to the touch. As big as Quatre's, they felt heavy and it make walking awkward. I supposed the fact that they were soaking with blood contributed a bit to the weight and hoped that they would become lighter as they dried.

I looked around the room and saw that it too, like the floor, was a mess. Black blood was sprayed everywhere and it looked oddly artistic shining on the walls. It mixed with the red drops from Quatre's changing on the floor. No matter how hard I had scrubbed I hadn't been able to wash the fiery splatters from the floor.

I left the house, not even bothering to close the door. The air was still and there was a bit of light left although I could see perfectly anyway. I saw movement to my left and turned, raking out with my nails.

The guy gurgled and held his throat were my nails had pierced through. He sank to his knees and struggled to speak. In moments, he was dead. Strangely, I felt no remorse. Odd.

"You new ones, already so ready to rush into killing."

I jumped and turned to face to voice. He looked like most of the other demons. Large dark wings, a cloak of black. Perfectly figured. His dark hair fell to the small of his back in a braid. He also had a hawk with him.

I hissed at him. Then I registered what I had done and gave a squeak. I didn't hiss, I didn't kill. But it didn't feel wrong either.

"And weren't you new once," I questioned him. He was after all half human, if he was a Recruiter.

He laughed. "So presumptuous, I was never born into it like you just were. I am the original. I'd even go so far as to say that I'm your creator as I'm the one who wakes you into existence. You can call me Duo"

"I see, my name is Relena."

Well, what do you think? Should I continue? I take all constructive criticisms except those on my character pairings although compliments are nice too ;-)

I originally wrote this for my writing fiction class but decided I'd like to use the gundams personalities for it. Thanks for reading!


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